I Hope It's For Me
by nyagcnopinkuneko
Summary: When Dave Karofsky gets out of Lima, Ohio, he feels like he can finally leave everything in his past behind and start over.  But there is one thing he can't forget about or stop wanting no matter how hard he tries.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Dave POV so please don't be surprised to see some homophobic terminology and language.

It was a well-known fact that most of the people born in Lima, Ohio never left. It was an amazing thing in and of itself that most of the people who lived there weren't the tragic results of in-breeding, but who's to say that wasn't so in the past?

Dave Karofsky liked to think that he'd beaten the system when he made it at least as far as Chicago, Illinois. It didn't surprise his father or most of his friends, since he'd been reigned into to play for a hockey team on scholarship for university. He was more than a little relieved that not many of his classmates had followed him.

University was a simultaneously blissfully free and stifling at the same time. Free in that he had a wider variety of people to befriend and could avoid getting stuck with people like Azimio and stifling in that his hockey persona still had the tendency to get him lumped into the same group with some of the thugs on the team with him.

Though he could be infinitely more open about who he was in some regards, he still had to watch his back and keep a low profile in others. Coming out was still nowhere close to an option, but the desire to bash any queer he saw hadn't plagued him in ages.

He'd had a lot of help with that, from the one person he wished would follow him here. After all, Chicago didn't boast one of the biggest acting franchises next to Hollywood and Broadway for nothing. He knew with the right type of persuasion, he could get that person to come and keep him company.

His feelings for Kurt Hummel had not diminished in all the time he'd known the younger man. Though the two of them had never become more than passable friends, they both admitted that it was difficult to part ways when the time came. They had been partners at school in a way that wasn't obviously seen. When Dave needed someone to rant to about what was going inside him, Kurt listened, and when Kurt needed someone to hold him who wouldn't be repulsed by the idea, Dave did what he could.

Kurt was fortunate though. He had Blaine, with whom he was a little more than just close friends, and the fellow Glee clubbers. With a closer watch and more emphasis on their zero tolerance policy, Kurt was safer now at school and he was elated when several more students came out towards the end of Dave's interim at William McKinley.

Perhaps they figured, with the main thug leaving, things would be safer with him gone regardless of the zero tolerance policy.

If only they knew the half of it.

When he got to university, Dave certainly tried to move on and find more people 'like him' and it wasn't particularly difficult, but he still felt uncomfortable with the idea of being open and the disconnect between him and the group of proud outs was enough that he never felt like one of them.

He was a gay man with no friends, gay or straight, and he was alone in a new place with no one to talk to but the picture of Kurt that he'd sneakily taken at school during French.

It was close to midterm when he received an unexpected phone call from the object of his affection.

"Blaine and I are coming to Chicago to go to an open campus. Is it cool if we crash with you," he asked in a familiar tone.

Dave felt his stomach twist at the thought of Kurt bringing his boyfriend along with him the first time they would see each other in months. Being two years older than Kurt meant that Blaine would graduate before him and Dave still had a year and a half to wait before Kurt would start considering schools to go to.

"Sure," he said gruffly, "I'll have to let my suitemates and my RA know you're coming."

"No problem," Kurt said, a smile obvious in his voice, "It'll be good to catch up, and thank you for letting us take advantage."

_I wish you would more_, Dave thought, but kept it to himself.

"When can I expect you," he asked Kurt, who asked the question away from the receiver. Dave heard Blaine's voice on the other end and felt the twinge of jealousy that had become all too common.

"We're coming in two weeks, is that okay? We know you have midterms so we weren't sure if you were staying through the holiday or not," Kurt stated.

"I'm not going anywhere. Hockey practice straight through," Dave replied.

"Right, okay. Then, we'll see you in two weeks," Kurt quipped.

The two of them said their goodbyes and Dave sighed when the other end clicked to indicate that Kurt had hung up. He wanted to talk to the boy longer and catch up properly, but he knew that if Blaine was anywhere in the vicinity, his name was Mud.

0000

The weather continued to chill, and snow fell for the first time before Kurt and Blaine arrived, bundled up in Kurt's car and rosy cheeked as Dave led them to his mostly empty dorm. They exchanged simple pleasantries as Dave introduced them to the suite living room and the fold out couch.

"You guys can sleep here, no one should come in harassing you in the middle of the night," he assured them, "If they do, I'll pummel them to within an inch of their lives."

Blaine gave him the same smug smile that he had on the first day they met and Dave had asked if he was Kurt's boyfriend. Dave didn't like the guy much, but if Kurt cared so much about him, he'd do his best to be civil.

"Thanks for your hospitality," Blaine replied, his tone amicable.

Kurt nodded with enthusiasm as well, his smile much less smug and much more genuine.

"When is this open campus of yours," Dave asked, going into the adjoining kitchen to grab a root beer, "You guys thirsty?"

"Can I have some water, please," Kurt requested.

Dave poured him a glass as Blaine answered.

"I'm fine, thanks. The open campus is tomorrow. We figured we'd do some site seeing today. You're welcome to join us," Blaine invited.

_No, thanks. I have no desire to be your third wheel_, Dave thought, rolling his eyes to himself as he brought out his and Kurt's drinks.

"I have to practice this afternoon and evening, so you guys have fun without me," he said simply, handing Kurt's glass of water and wondering if he detected a glimmer of a pout at his answer.

"There's a great restaurant nearby, though, if you guys are interested in meeting up with me for dinner," Dave conceded.

"I like that idea, can we do that, honey," Kurt asked Blaine, who rolled his eyes at Kurt's nickname.

"Yes, dear," he replied, loving sarcasm lightly lacing his tone. Kurt punched him in the arm.

Dave hoped that it hurt the prep-school, snobby-nosed brat.

"So that's settled," Dave concluded, gulping down his root beer.

He wished that he could drink a real beer, but he didn't want to have his ass handed to him by the other enforcers during practice today. That would just have to wait until tonight.

He left the two to head out to practice, giving them a few suggestions on places to go before leaving. He got schooled by the other enforcers anyway, being too distracted by thoughts of Kurt and his perfect lips and perfect smile to process plays and strategies for the practice.

When he showed up for dinner that night, trying not to completely clock out of the mundane conversation Blaine and Kurt were keeping up, spewing and flailing over the places they went, he was completely sore from head to toe. Fortunately, watching Kurt get so excited about Chicago gave him hope, though he knew it was more likely that if Blaine came here for school, Kurt would, too.

It would have nothing to do with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Dave's mom had one rule: If he was going to go to school out of state, he had to spend major holidays at home. Coming back to Lima wasn't the worst thing in the world, but going back didn't necessarily excite the hockey player either. There were very few people he was looking forward to seeing in the month that he would be home.

He sent a text message to Kurt letting him know he would be home and asking if they could 'hang out'. What he really wanted to say, he hoped Kurt could make out between the lines: _I miss you. I want to spend time with you._ But he never received a reply and arrived home with no plans, and no one to see that actually meant anything to him.

Crossing the city line was a little like being forced to put on an old skin and take a bath in dirty water. It felt grimy and wrong brought back all the suffocating pain of the years before. He didn't feel like walking up and down the streets of his old town and run into 'old friends' and have to act the way he used to.

Least of all with his family, who, if anyone met them, they would understand why Dave had been such a jerk for so long. He tried not to show his disdain for them too much while in their presence, but occasionally his mom would call him out on it.

"Sorry that you're not having fun and enjoying yourself, but can you at least pretend that you're happy to see you mother and father," she pleaded now and then.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Christmas passed and then New Year's without a word from Kurt, and Dave's mood got blacker and blacker until he was spending most of his time in his room or driving around to escape his mother's incessant whining.

Two days before it was time to return to Chicago, he finally received a text message from Kurt that both relieved and pained him.

_David,_

_Sorry I haven't emailed you back. I went with Blaine and his family to Colorado for a skiing trip and was pretty occupied with other things. I'm coming back tomorrow if you still want to hang out._

Dave wasn't sure how to reply without sounding like a broken-hearted whining baby, but he had to reply somehow.

_Hey, Hummel. I have to leave the day after tomorrow. It doesn't give us much time to hang out._

He waited only seconds for a response this time.

_Well, how about we get together for dinner or something?_

Dave grimaced as he texted back his reply.

_Dinner sounds good, but I'm not sure about meeting you in public here in Lima._

The last thing he needed was the gossip that would spread like wildfire for weeks after people saw them at Breadstix together. He'd never live that one down.

_Fine, closet case, meet me at my house tomorrow at six. Dad, Carol and Finn should still be out of town_.

Dave particularly hated it when Kurt called him that, but he'd called the younger man far worse, so he put up with it. After all, it was the truth, more or less.

_Will Blaine be there?_

_Of course not, David_.

He would never admit it to anyone, but it took him hours to decide to wear to Kurt's house that night. Since leaving, his wardrobe had filled out beyond parkas, jerseys, white T-shirts and jeans to include some nicer looking pieces. One thing he told himself that no matter what his sexuality was, he was never going to sacrifice comfort for fashion if he could avoid it.

In the end, he chose his nicest pair of jeans, dark and faded in all the right spots, a spotless white undershirt and a deep green button-up shirt. For Dave, it was as dressed up as he could manage without looking too suspicious, or presumptuous. As he left, he told his parents he was meeting up with some friends, not an entire untruth, and hopped into his car, making his way through the snow and slush that was falling.

He parked in a grocery store parking lot a couple blocks from Kurt's house and walked, hoping that he wouldn't run into anyone he knew on the way for fear of having to explain where he was going.

Dave was relieved when Kurt came to the door quickly, since he was cold and breathing into his hands by the time he arrived at the house. He had to roll his eyes at Kurt's get-up, though. The flamboyant boy was bedecked in apron and oven mitts as he escorted him inside, instructing him to take off his shoes at the door.

"There's a fire in the living room if you want to warm up," he offered the larger man.

Dave's nostrils flared at the scent of food wafting through the air.

"What's for dinner," he asked.

"Nothing even a little bit healthy for us, since it's cold outside, and because I pegged you for a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Hope you like Shepherd's Pie," Kurt smirked at Dave.

"It's one of my favorites," Dave admitted, following Kurt to the kitchen instead of going to the living room. Being around Kurt was enough to warm him up.

Kurt smiled mischievously when they reached the large cooking area, turning on Dave.

"There's a left-over bottle of wine in the refrigerator, too, if you want some of that with our dinner," he offered.

"Don't you think your parents are going to notice it's missing," Dave pointed out.

Kurt shrugged.

"It's been in there since they left on holiday. Dad knows my rule about how long things stay in there before they get tossed," he explained.

"'S cool with me," Dave conceded as Kurt turned at the ding from the toaster oven, opening it to check the rolls, "Anything I can do to help?"

"The glasses are up there," Kurt pointed to a cupboard, "If you could grab those, the bottle of wine and take these rolls to the table, I'll bring out the pie."

Dave did as he was told and seated himself, his nostrils flaring again as a steaming piece of crockery was placed on the table, containing a perfectly golden pie. His eyes flicked up as Kurt doffed his mitts and apron, revealing a low-slung, flimsy looking graphic shirt with a long, comfortable knit-wear jacket that fell nearly to his knees in the back and jeans that looks like they were painted on. Looking at him made Dave feel like he was going crazy inside.

Kurt sat down and started portioning out the food in silence.

"So . . . you spent the holidays with Blaine," Dave said slowly in an attempt at small talk.

"We both know you don't want to hear about Blaine," Kurt smirked, setting Dave's plate in front of him, "I know you don't like him and I know why you don't like him, too."

Dave blushed and grabbed a roll, buttering it and placing it on Kurt's plate before doing the same for himself. Kurt poured them both a glass of wine and held up his own by the stem, his pinky popped out. Dave had to restrain an eye-roll.

"To catching up with a good friend," the younger one smiled softly.

_Good friends_, the words were like a knife in Dave's stomach.

Quietly, he took a sip of the deep red wine, setting down the glass and grabbing his fork, scooping up a nice mouthful of the steaming potatoes, perfectly fluffy with tinges of brown where the meat had soaked into the underside and placed it in his mouth. He didn't know what Kurt had done to the dish, but the moment it hit his tongue, his eyes went wide as saucers.

"Kurt, this is _awesome_," he exclaimed, "I didn't know you could cook like this."

"Got used to doing all the cooking around here once I was tall enough to reach everything; can't trust my dad to do it. We'd eat pizza and Chinese every night," Kurt snorted, taking a bite out of his roll.

"It's really good," Dave complimented again, his eyes riveted on the movement of Kurt's mouth as he chewed.

After a few moments of staring, Kurt's eyes met his and the younger one's cheeks tinted.

"Dave," he said softly, "You're staring."

"I know," Dave whispered, "I can't help it. I never could."

"Dave, please," Kurt said, his tone slightly impatient, "I'm with someone and I invited you over to catch up, not to seduce or be seduced by you."

Dave frowned and went back to eating, violently stabbing at his food, ignoring the wine. Drinking would not be a good idea right now, no matter how much he wanted to drown his hurt.

Several moments of silence passed, slowly ground out by every pointed clink of Dave's fork against the flatware. Finally, Kurt sighed and grabbed Dave's fork and set it down.

"Dave, stop," he said softly, his eyes pleading.

Dave snapped.

"Stop what," he bellowed, standing up fast enough to knock the chair back with a loud slam. Kurt winced and stood slowly.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Kurt replied, trying to placate the bigger man.

"Don't patronize me," Dave sneered at the blink of shock in Kurt's face, "Yeah, I know that word, surprised? Well, there's a lot that's changed about me that you don't know about, and you know why that is? Because I left and you fucking forgot about me.

I didn't forget you though. I think about you every damn day, about your face and lips and the way you fucking smile and I can't get rid of you. You're under my skin and you're still everything I want and can't have. So I'm sorry if I'm a little bit upset. I know I don't deserve you, not at all. I get that. You're the one that not only got away, the one I never even got close to."

Dave's face was red, his fists were balled up and his voice was shaking, breaking, on the verge of tears.

"Every time I see you, I just . . . I want," he started and stopped, his eyes searching Kurt's.

"What do you want," Kurt said softly, his voice also trembling.

Dave closed the space between them with a single step, one arm wrapping around Kurt's shoulders, the other around the smaller one's waist and, for the second time in his life, he kissed the boy as deeply as he could. He knew he'd be pushed away again, just like before, but he didn't care this time. He needed to get it through Kurt's thick skull that this wasn't a fading, passing feeling. It was his whole world.

A second passed, two, and Dave kept waiting for Kurt to push him away, but he had to break away for air before that could happen. His eyes opened and he saw the one thing he did not expect to see.

Kurt was crying.

Dave didn't need to be pushed away, he stepped away instead, anguish in his features. Once again, rejection, deep-seated and festering, welled up in him.

"Kurt," he started, his voice low and gravelly.

Kurt shook his head emphatically, "Dave, please don't. I can't answer your feelings. I can't. I wish I could and I'm sorry this is hurting you. If you can't be with me as a friend . . . we shouldn't see each other anymore."

The world fell away like sand around Dave, shattering into a million tiny pieces that cut him as they dropped to the ground. His chest felt hollowed out and he realized it was because his heart had been ripped out and tossed at his feet.

Without a single word he turned and walked away, leaving that house and Kurt behind, losing himself in the dark cold, hoping he would never be found.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave headed back to Chicago defeated and happier than ever that he had escaped Lima. Now that things had been settled with Kurt he finally had no choice but to move on, at least that was what he told himself every night before he went to bed, clicking on his phone screen to stare at the background.

Try as he might, going out and establishing a new life was harder than it seemed. He talked to guys that reminded him of the boy he'd been forced to leave behind, but none of them had that something he was looking for; that thing that Kurt had that made him indefinable.

The biggest thing is that none of hem understood where he was coming from, couldn't understand why he was still closeted or why he was so determined to stay that way. Kurt hadn't liked it, but he'd always been sympathetic. His gentle, reassuring hand had been the glue that held Dave together through everything.

None of the fierce, fashionably fabulous fairies he talked to even came close to touching Kurt.

Dave determined after a few months that that was just how it was going to be. Maybe it was his punishment for being such an asshole. He had the rest of his life alone to look forward to.

Summer came all too soon, and Dave came out of his freshman year with better grades than he'd ever gotten. He tried to excuse it by thinking that, with the sports program's strict rules on passing grades, it made sense. But if he was honest with himself, it was really because studying was the only thing that kept him from other things. He'd never enjoyed studying before, but it as a more constructive form of escape than drinking, like his father always did. One thing Dave certainly didn't want was to become his father, but being gay more or less guaranteed that that would never happen.

Instead of coming home, Dave got a job and leased an apartment. His mother was pissed, but Dave had put up a good argument that there were more jobs in Chicago than there were Lima, and either way, he needed to work.

Chicago's summer was hot but Dave had actually always liked what heat signified. It meant time to be free to make one's own choices about what to do with their time. So, Dave chose to work, sleep, work-out and eat when there was time in-between. The pudge that had defined him through high school disappeared, melting away like snow after a long, cold winter. He was still big, but all the left-over chub transformed into tightly packed muscles. Looking in the mirror and seeing his new physique didn't please him though. The one person who would have commented positively on it was no longer in his life.

Going to the gym was a lonely ritual, but late into July, he started to notice someone noticing him. At first, the guy that kept staring at him only confused Dave, until he realized why he was staring. An old familiar disgust coiled up in his gut and he was beginning to wonder if there was something he was doing to draw attention to himself. Was it so obvious now that he was starting to attract flaky little fags? The old defenses started going up, pointedly ignoring the stares, doing everything he could to avoid meeting the other man's eyes.

When they ran into each other in the locker room, Dave had the strangest sense of déjà vu. This guy was built a lot thicker through the chest than Kurt ever would be, but he still had a slight feminine vibe about him that was so reminiscent of everything he used to resent in Kurt. Dave immediately scowled when the guy smiled at him, but even his venomous expression didn't deter the other.

With no one around, the smaller man was obviously feeling bold, because no sooner had Dave made the face that he was talking to him.

"Oh, honey, you're in there really deep aren't you," he lisped, shaking his head with a small smirk.

His certainty caught Dave off-guard and he looked at the other man in shock before he could recover himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The lie came so easily, and all over again, Dave was his bigger, more insecure self, the one that stalked the high schools hallways in search of someone to terrorize, the weaker the better. His shoulders squared and his fists balled up as he tried to move past the other man.

"Sure, you don't," the other replied haughtily.

Dave turned on him.

"You're really itching for a beat down, aren't you," he hissed.

The other man laughed; his voice high, clear and bell-like.

"I like you," he grinned, "If you're finished, why don't you get a cup of coffee with me?"

Dave was so flustered, he could only gape, swallow and nod. He'd never met anyone who wasn't completely put off by his bullying and threats. Either this guy was crazy or a complete freak of nature.

He followed the slightly shorter one out of the gym, finally taking the time to assess the guy's appearance. He had sandy blond hair, obviously natural, a long, slender neck for someone who worked out, broad shoulders but not as broad as Dave's, a slim torso and an ass so muscular and tight that there was no way this guy couldn't be gay. Dave berated himself for that train of thought, simply because it always felt incriminating to catch himself thinking about how nice looking a guy's ass was.

They stopped in a Starbucks and grabbed some iced coffees and sat out on the veranda in the evening cool.

"How did you know," Dave finally said after a few sips of his coffee.

An eyebrow popped up on the other guy's face.

"Normally you start with asking for the other person's name," he instructed smugly, "It's Chris, by the way, and you show up at the gym alone and whether you realize you do it or not, you've totally checked out plenty of the guys there. Plus, you tried so hard to ignore me, it was kind of obvious."

Dave frowned, "I see . . . my name's Dave."

A few more silent sips passed before Chris started talking again.

"Well, Dave, is there a reason why a sexy piece of man like you is hiding in plain sight," he asked, toying with the straw with fingers so long and slim, they immediately reminded Dave of Kurt.

Aside from the hair color and a slight difference in build, Chris managed to exude an essence that felt familiar, comfortable. Perhaps it was his blunt, to the point way of speaking. Kurt never waded in peripheral bullshit. He had the ability to cut right to the chase and get to the root of whatever situation he found himself in. Chris seemed like that type, too.

"Long story," Dave mumbled, shoving his straw around in his cup.

"I'll bet," Chris replied, "How about when we finish this coffee, you take me back to your place and let me show you a good time?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he immediately looked around to make sure no one was listening. He couldn't believe he was being propositioned for little more than a one-night stand in broad twilight. Revulsion roiled in his gut and he grimaced at Chris. Maybe the vibe he'd gotten off of the other guy was all smoke in mirrors.

"Sorry," he growled softly, "That's not my style."

Dave stood, ready to leave this guy in his dust, but Chris was laughing so hard that big fat tears were rolling down his face. Dave looked at him, incredulous.

"Fuck, you are wound up tight," he gasped between stints of laughter, "Calm down, Goliath, I'm just joking with you. I didn't spend the last two weeks staring at you to try to pick you up for a one-night stand. Sit down."

Dave did as he was told, marveling at just how strange this guy was. Strange and unexpected.

"I've got some time," Chris finally said after he stopped laughing, "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Dave's brow furrowed, but he obliged Chris with the basics, glossing over most of it and bullet pointing where he could. Chris listened for the five minutes it took Dave to tell him 'everything' about himself.

Chris was silent for a moment and then tilted his head to one side, "I'm going to give you my number, you know. So, the next time you go the gym, you're going to call me and we're going to go to dinner instead. You don't have to troll the gym for guys anymore."

"That wasn't what I was doing," Dave replied, defensively, glowering at Chris.

"Well, that may well be, but you were still trolling for something," Chris countered, his plush lips wrapping around the straw and sucking down the rest of his coffee, "If not for a guy, then at least for a friend."

"If you're going to be friends with me, you should know I'm not a good guy," Dave warned Chris.

Chris smiled small, "Maybe once upon a time you weren't a good guy, but some people can change, with the right people to help them."

_I had the right person helping me, and he kicked me to the curb_, Dave thought, forlorn.

"You don't know anything about me, or about who I am, or who I've been," Dave said softly.

_You don't want to know_, he thought looking at Chris, who was giving him a level look in return.

"The past is just that," Chris finally said, "We can choose to release it and learn from it, or cling to it and let it hold us back. Maybe you've been making the wrong choice."

Dave looked at Chris, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt like he was talking to someone who actually _understood_ what he was feeling. The feeling completely terrified him, because he was so used to being misunderstood. He was used to having to watch out for himself, getting in people's faces if they pushed his boundaries, and threatening anyone who threatened the delicate balance he kept his life in.

Maybe in the last few years, he hadn't really changed at all.

Maybe that's why, when Kurt was with him, he still kept up his guard around Dave. He probably still feared for his life.

It only served to emphasize just how inadequate Dave was for Kurt. The thought depressed him.

Chris slipped a piece of paper into the bigger man's hand and stood.

"Thanks for coming out with me," he said in a quiet tone, "If you want to get together again sometime, just give me a call, okay?"

Dave looked at the small slip of paper and then up at Chris and tried to manage a smile, getting a lopsided twist of his lips instead.

"Yeah . . . thanks," he replied, watching as Chris tossed his cup and headed off into the darkening night.

He pulled out his phone and looked at Kurt's picture.

"I fucked up everything with you in so many ways, and I get it now," he whispered to a Kurt bent over his desk, writing out a French transcript into his notebook, his lips gently pursed in a way that Dave couldn't help but stare at.

"I did everything wrong. I was scared, I was stupid and I was too challenged to do things the way they should have been done, but you still became my friend," he continued, "I never deserved any of it."

Kurt, of course, didn't answer him, but Dave imagined those eyes turning to meet his, those lips curling up in that signature smug smile, one side quirking up just a little more than the other. The idea comforted Dave. It felt safe, like the home that wasn't his, but that he wanted to be a part of anyway.

No matter what, he definitely wasn't the same guy from high school. Not the same guy so scared to be found out that he was willing to kill to keep it stuffed down, but he wasn't far enough away from that guy, and he didn't know if he ever would be.

He looked at the number again, and slowly, methodically typed the number into his phone book, saving it under Chris's name. Maybe this was his second chance, his chance to do it right.


	4. Chapter 4

It was another week before Dave could finally pluck the courage to ask Chris out for dinner. He kept telling himself that it wasn't a date, just dinner with someone he had met at the gym, dinner with an associate.

He didn't fuss as much about what he was going to wear as he had with Kurt, but that was almost because he didn't have to. He knew, by this point, very well what looked good on him: snug, clingy T-shirts and slim-fit jeans and nice tennis-shoes looked good nearly anywhere. Looking in the mirror always brought a smug look to his face. Dave knew he looked good, nowhere near chubby.

_Kurt, eat your heart out_, he shot mentally at the mirror before grabbing his keys and hopping in his car to head for the Italian restaurant he'd chosen to meet Chris for dinner. The smaller man was similarly dressed, which was a relief to Dave, who didn't want to seem like he was dressing down on purpose. After all, all of this was just a casual dinner between friends, right?

Chris waved, a large grin on his face when he recognized Dave as he approached.

"Long time no see," he quipped, pushing the sandy blond mess of hair back off his forehead.

"Yeah," Dave shrugged, suddenly feeling shy, his rounded cheeks tinting a little in embarrassment, "I haven't felt like going to the gym lately. Had a lot to think about."

Chris reached out and ran his hand over Dave's round but solid stomach, a small smirk on his lips.

"The only muscle thinking works is your brain, honey, gotta keep your other sexy points tuned up, too," he winked and practically _sashayed_ into the restaurant, leaving a dismayed Dave in his wake.

The bigger man blustered his way inside, and barely made it to Chris's side as they were ushered to a table. The waitress eyed them both before asking for their drink order, and Dave eyed her right back as he gave his. He wasn't used to being gawked at for any other reason but that he was a pretty big guy. Being stared at because he was eating with another dude, something that shouldn't seem so out of the norm, made him feel a little comfortable, and once again he found that he was asking himself if he was that obvious. Or maybe Chris was just giving off such crazy fairy vibes, Dave was being held guilty by association, not that he wasn't.

"So what have you been thinking about," Chris said when the pesky girl left and Dave snapped out of his reverie.

"Um . . ." he stuttered, then shook his head, chuckling, "You really don't mince words, do you?"

Chris's lips curled into an evil little grin.

"You could say that," the fey-like man replied, "But since you made a point of mentioning it, I'm making a point of asking about it."

Dave looked up, his tongue flicking out the way it did when he was in deep thought and then he shrugged, pushing his lips into a deep, thoughtful twist.

"About this guy," he said honestly.

He knew it was bad form to mention other guys on what Chris might be considering their first dates, but Dave felt it was a better idea to lay everything out on the table, so that if things when further than friendship with Chris, and he could envision that, Chris knew just what he was getting into.

Chris wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at Dave intently, silently giving him permission to continue, so Dave did.

"This guy from high school, the first guy I ever came out to. I bullied him because I was scared, but I was also in love with him," Dave's voice lowered to a whisper, "I think I still might be."

Chris nodded, but remained silent, content, it seemed, to allow Dave to speak his mind.

"Fact of the matter is, the two of us have history. There's a lot of really dark stuff between us, but he's a part of who I am . . . he's the _reason_ I am who I am," Dave explained, "He gave me a lot in school. We were friends . . . good friends, until I tried to make us more. He told me we couldn't be friends anymore."

Dave cut himself off, hearing tears beginning to shake his voice. When did he become such an emotional little _queen_? He took a few deep breaths before finishing.

"I haven't spoken to him in seven months. I don't know how he is, or even if he's thinking about me," he said in a monotone.

"I doubt he's not," Chris said softly, "I barely even know you and I think about you all the time."

That stopped all of Dave's conflicting thoughts in their tracks and he stared at Chris.

"Really," he asked, surprised at the hopeful tone in his voice, though he couldn't decide whether it was because he was hopeful that Kurt was thinking of him or Chris.

Chris reached over and gently ran his index over Dave's hand and smiled, his eyes softening in a way that Dave had never seen him do. It sent chills through him and he found himself fixated with those eyes, blue and gentle and understanding.

"Really," Chris murmured.

0000

Dave decided on that being their first date, and then there was a second, a third, a fourth and by the fifth he had come to the conclusion that this was more than just an association or a friendship. He thought he was developing feelings for Chris, and he was sure that the other man, who he found out was actually a bit older than him, was developing feelings as well. Dave had already asked if the age difference bothered Chris, but the older man had just laughed at him and called him 'cute'.

There was never an official word on it, but they were together every waking moment practically, and Chris introduced Dave to his friends as his 'significant other'. It made Dave ifeel/i significant to be introduced that way. Even though it had been a few months and school was starting in a few weeks, Dave felt like it had been ages that they had been together. The more he learned about Chris, the more he felt himself fall.

At the back of his mind, he could hear Kurt whispering his name, but every time he did, it grew just a little bit fainter.

It was Chris who started to initiate their physical relationship, which was odd for Dave, who had always felt more comfortable in the aggressor's role. The first time they kissed had been nothing like any other kiss Dave had had. It was short, simple, nothing more than a little peck to his lips before Chris slipped through his apartment door, leaving Dave shell-shocked, blushing and checking the halls to make sure no one had seen.

The pecks turned into more fairly quickly; deep kisses shared in dark corners of bars, slippery, wet and hungry just before saying goodbye for the night, nuzzling and sweet when out in broad daylight, but it was all exhilarating because it was something that was being fully participated in by both parties. Dave never met resistance with Chris, and it made him tingle all the way to his toes and ache in his heart.

If only things with Kurt . . .

Dave firmly tried to stuff down those thoughts and focus on the person he was with, because Chris was good for him. Chris made him feel brave and strong and wanted. It was nothing like the things Kurt had made him feel, and even though that thought him, Dave pushed it away to concentrate on what _was_ going right.

Midterms approached and Dave realized it had been a year since Kurt had last visited him in Chicago, and nearly that long since they'd last spoken. Unbidden, that day was the lowest he'd ever felt. He wanted nothing more than to see Kurt, hear his voice, look at his smile, smell his skin and be close enough to touch and hold him.

Chris noticed that night how down Dave was, but asked very few questions as to why. He simply announced to Dave that he had a surprise for him.

Dave followed Chris back to the other man's bedroom, his heart beginning to race. He'd limited their interactions to each other's couches, mostly because he was nervous about things going all the way. He had justified it with several excuses, but he couldn't deny the reason why he'd truly avoided a sexual relationship with a guy was because he didn't want to close his eyes in the middle, see Kurt's face and say his name by accident.

Chris was gentle with him, guiding him slowly, confidently, through their first act of love making. It had certainly been special, but Dave felt something curl up and die in him as he looked up to see that the face hovering close to his wasn't Kurt's, the body rolling and pressing against him belonged to the wrong person. He tried to concentrate, but his imagination got the better of him, and what brought him to the end had nothing to do with Chris.

When they were finished, Dave looked Chris in the eyes and began to speak.

"Shh," Chris said softly, looking back at him and touching his lips, "I know, Dave . . . trust me. Don't say anything. Just hold me until I fall asleep."

Dave did as Chris asked, but left as soon as he knew Chris wouldn't wake up. Before leaving the bedroom, he looked back and felt shame grip his so deeply that his vision skewed and he had to run away to escape from it.


	5. Chapter 5

He drove all night, directionless and without purpose, and as the sun rose over the horizon, revealing the sign that said 'Lima - 60', he cursed himself. When his instincts stuck his car right in front of Kurt Hummel's house, he cursed himself more. It wasn't like he could go up at six in the morning, ring the doorbell and expect to be welcomed with open arms. The very idea was ludicrous.

He noticed movement below and his eyes flicked down to catch a drape fluttering back into place over one of the basement windows. He knew that Kurt lived downstairs and his heart began to race for the second time in the last twenty-four hours.

Dave only had to wait for a few moments before the front door of Kurt's house opened and the younger man stepped out, a plush, comfortable looking robe wrapped around the slight frame. The boy didn't move from the door frame, and Dave simply stared at him from his car, his eyes hungry. Neither of them attempted to call to each other, and neither made a move towards leaving their space.

After what seemed like hours of staring at each other, Kurt lifted a finger and retreated back into his house, shutting the door. Dave felt he understood the signal, but after he had waited for an hour, he wondered if he wasn't wrong.

Just as he was about to start the engine and pull away the door opened again. Kurt, this time, was fully dressed and his hair done instead of sticking out in every direction as it had been. Dave was relieved when he descended his front porch steps, walked towards the car and got in.

"Drive," he commanded softly, his eyes straight ahead.

Dave, as eager to please Kurt as always, did as he was told, driving around the neighborhood in silence for awhile before pulling onto the main road and heading away from Kurt's residence.

The silence soon became stifling and Dave kept glancing over at the younger one, growing alarmed as he began to notice that Kurt's face was growing redder and redder.

"Kurt," he probed, clearing his throat.

He watched as Kurt's jaw tightened, concerned.

"Pull over," Kurt ordered. Dave did so.

As soon as he was parked, Dave opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Kurt's face crumpling with tears. His hands went up to fend off the slapping blows that furiously fell from what Dave had thought was Kurt, but had become a flurry of movement and tears instead.

"How. Dare. You. Just. Leave. Me. Like. That!"

Each word was punctuated with a slap or a punch, none of them hard enough to hurt, but the words were like nails being pounded into him.

"What," Dave sputtered, finally grasping at Kurt's wrists, holding his hands captive, "Kurt, what do you mean, how dare I? You said if I couldn't be just friends with you, I shouldn't see you anymore."

Kurt let out a sound close to a soft scream, struggling against Dave's grip.

"Why couldn't you just be friends with me," he exclaimed, "Didn't anything that happened between us mean anything to you?"

Dave let Kurt's hands go and gave him a very serious look.

"Are you really asking me that," he said in a low tone.

Kurt's eyes narrowed, but he stopped blubbering long enough for Dave to readjust in his seat to really look the younger one in the eyes.

"You're seriously asking me if our past means nothing to me," he repeated, "Have you lost your mind? I think about it every day. It's everything that matters about me. iYou/i are everything that matters about me."

Kurt gave Dave a desperate look, the looked out the window.

"Blaine and I didn't last a month after you left," he whispered, "All I could think about what I'd done to you, how I'd hurt you and . . . how I led you on. After everything _you_ did to _me_, _I_ was the one feeling guilty and . . . you really had no right to make me feel that way."

Dave gazed at Kurt with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry that I put you through that, but I wasn't going to sit still for unanswered feelings," Dave said quietly, "You were telling me to move on, and so I did."

Kurt's head whipped around so fast, Dave wasn't sure he hadn't given himself whiplash.

"You did," he squeaked, shocked. Dave frowned.

"Well, I thought I did," he explained, "But last night something happened . . . and it only made everything I still feel about you worse."

Kurt was staring at him now, his features confused, "I don't understand."

Dave sighed and looked up at Kurt.

"I had sex with a guy for the first time last night, a guy I've been dating for nearly six months, a guy I thought I'd fallen in love with, and you want to know what I was thinking the whole time," Dave gave a dry chuckle at Kurt's blanched face.

"I was thinking about how much better it would have been if it had been with you," he finished, shaking his head, "Six months with this guy, doing something that is supposed to be sacred and special between us, and all I can think about is you. After three years, my feelings haven't changed and I don't know it's because there's something wrong with me, or if it's because this is what's really meant to be."

Kurt looked at Dave in something that resembled awe.

"You're so different from when I first met you," he said softly.

"I became different on purpose," Dave replied gruffly, "How else would I be able to keep up with you?"

Kurt looked down at his hands.

"It hasn't been easy for me, Dave," he whispered, "When I think about you and me being together, I think about the bullying, the threats, the pain and embarrassment and humiliation you put me through. I gave up a lot of it to become friends with you and you have no idea how hard it was to think about you and the word friend at the same time. After three years, I still haven't completely forgiven you and I don't know if I can."

Dave gripped the steering wheel, but he wondered to himself what he had been expecting to hear.

"I don't think there's any way I'll ever make up for any of that," Dave replied after a long silence, "I can only do my best to be good to you. I'm not expecting you to forget that I was a completely fucked up asshole to you for a really long time. But I'm not a fucked up asshole anymore. Well," Dave paused, "I might still be pretty fucked up."

Kurt was gracious enough to offer Dave a small smile at that.

"Truth is my life isn't right without you," Dave said slowly, "I need you in it. I want to be able to talk to you everyday like we used to. I want to see you more, too."

"It's difficult to see someone who is still hiding," Kurt said shortly.

Dave gave an exasperated sigh.

"I know that this isn't just about the fact that most of the people in Lima still don't know that I'm gay," Dave spouted, "So don't try to make it seem like it is. You have a car; you can come see me just as easily as I came to see you."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but Dave could see that he was getting through to the younger man. It felt good to finally be able to communicate with the other on the same level. It felt even better to stump Kurt into silence for once.

"What I have to ask you next is: how far are you willing to let me take things with you, because if you let me, I'll go full throttle," Dave said, "I'm committed to us working, whatever it takes. I'll climb the bell tower on the City Hall building and come out to the whole damn city if that's what you want."

That got a real grin out of Kurt, and Dave couldn't help but grin back.

"Give me one chance," Dave finally asked, "One chance to show you who I really am."

Kurt looked at him.


	6. Chapter 6

Dave spent that weekend at the Hummel house, though he could tell that Finn wasn't wild about the idea of him being there. The other guy had grudgingly accepted Dave's friendship with Kurt when it began to form, but he was extremely protective of his younger step-brother and always held Dave under the suspicion that he might turn on the boy in the end. Though Dave was frustrated by Finn's attitude towards him, he understood where it was coming from and figured, if he had any siblings who had become friends with their bullies, he might feel the exact same way.

It didn't stop Kurt from insisting that Dave share his bedroom to his parents. Burt and Carole seemed hesitant, but explicitly told Kurt that they trusted him to 'behave himself'. Dave said nothing but mentally assured both them, and himself, that nothing extraordinary would happen anyway.

After all, Kurt still hadn't really said one way or the other how any of this was going to turn out. He'd simply looked at Dave in deep, silent thought before asking the older guy to come stay for the weekend. Dave wanted to take it as a good sign, but considering their history of miscommunication, Kurt could just have insisted that he stay over so that he could torture and maim him.

The first night it became obvious that Dave was either sharing the bed with Kurt, or sleeping on the floor, but as Kurt didn't lay anything out for him to sleep on and the small sofa in the room was apparently too small for him, Dave began to wonder just where he was meant to get some sleep.

Kurt was nearly finished with his skin regiment, his eyes flicking to David's face from where he sat in front of his vanity now and then. Dave tried not to look nervous or expectant about what was about the situation. He cleared his throat gently.

"So where am I sleeping," he asked slowly, really quite afraid to ask that question.

Kurt just looked at him, deadpan.

"You really were dropped on your head, weren't you," he rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "In my bed, with me. It's big enough for the both of us."

Dave swallowed hard and nodded. He'd been suspecting that was the case and the idea of sharing a sleeping space with the unchanged object of his affection did things to his heart and his brain that he couldn't begin to fathom.

"I have a few really large T-shirts over there," Kurt gestured to a neat pile of folded laundry next to the dresser, "I'm sure one of them would suffice for you to sleep in tonight."

Dave nodded and carefully rifled through the pile, his hands pausing as he found a shirt with a hand pointing to one side and the word "HIS" printed under it. Dave didn't really want to know where or how Kurt had gotten a shirt like that, or why it was so large when Kurt was obviously quite petite. He could venture a few guesses, but none of them particularly pleased him.

Yet that was the shirt he chose to don to sleep in, stripping down to that and his boxers.

He turned to find Kurt already tucked beneath the covers of his bed, staring at him and Dave blushed, wondering if Kurt had been watching him undress.

Without saying anything, he found the lights and turned them out, crawling into the bed next to Kurt, who scooted over to make room.

At first, the two of them lay in complete silence. Then, Kurt shifted next to Dave and slid up to him, his arm wrapping itself securely around the bigger man's middle. Dave moved his arm to accommodate the smaller young man, his eyes going wide and the rest of his body going stiff as a board as Kurt invaded his space. Kurt rested his head in the crook between Dave's shoulder and neck and sighed.

"Why that shirt," he whispered to Dave, who felt his heart begin to thump harder.

"Because," Dave croaked, "It's true."

He could feel Kurt's breath against his neck, and it took all his self-control to breathe and remind himself that he had to be good. It was so hard to concentrate on anything but the way Kurt's smell had suffused its way into the sheets, or the fact that the lean, lithe body was pressed up against his side. It was like a dream, and Dave couldn't make himself wake up.

"I promised myself that I would never let myself fall for you," Kurt whispered after another long silence, "Because the things you did to me . . . I can never forget the fear you made me feel, the way you were everywhere I looked, even when I left William McKinley to get away from you. When I see you stare at me, I can only remember the first time you did that and how I was so scared that I couldn't hold myself together anymore. You made me feel things no one should feel."

Dave listened, his chest tightening with guilt.

"But," Kurt said softly, and Dave inhaled slowly, "You're not who you were. I know that because I watched you change and become someone else. Someone better, someone remorseful," he continued, "Someone good enough."

Dave exhaled, his eyes closing and his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

"It bothered me," Kurt explained, "I wasn't expecting you to become so different, someone I almost didn't recognize until you looked at me that way. You don't know how confusing it was for me when that look stopped scaring me."

The younger one leaned up on one elbow and tapped Dave gently to make him open his eyes. Dave looked at Kurt, the look that was only for him, a stare loaded with desire and pain. Kurt stared back at him.

"When you look at me that way," Kurt whispered, "All I really want to do is . . ."

The younger one stopped speaking, and Dave searched his eyes for a moment. Kurt licked his lips and leaned down, gently pulling the older man's thin lower lip between his plusher ones, sealing their mouths together in what Dave could finally call their first consensual kiss.

He was terrified to move, terrified to break this moment, terrified of exploding, terrified of going crazy on Kurt. He lay there, Kurt kissing him softly, unable to do anything.

Kurt pulled away from Dave just enough to let out a breathy whisper.

"Kiss me, David," he sighed, tugging at one of the bigger man's hands.

Dave felt something snap inside of him and he immediately rolled them over, the hand Kurt had tugged on finding itself tangled in Kurt's perfect hair. He heard the smaller one give a soft whining sound to that, but he didn't care as he buried his tongue in Kurt's perfect mouth.

He tasted every bit as sweet as Dave had imagined, soft, silky, like spearmint. The hand in Kurt's hair slid down his neck as he deepened their kiss further, tilting up the younger one's chin. He could hear himself moaning, and he couldn't stop it, especially when Kurt's tongue eagerly met his own and the two of them tasted each other.

Dave poured out all his passion in the kiss, drawing whimpers and sighs from Kurt that sent racing thrills through him. He could feel his body heating up and he tried to tell himself that the kiss was as far as they were going tonight, but his body didn't want to listen.

With a groan he pulled away and buried his face in the pillow he was using, gasping for breath.

He could hear Kurt breathing similarly, his hand fisted into Dave's shirt still.

"David," Kurt's voice was insistent, and Dave chanced a glance at him. What he saw in Kurt's expression made his heart thump even harder than it already was.

"Your parents," he managed first, earning a frown from Kurt.

Dave sighed and pulled Kurt into his arms, gently stroking the perfect face with his thumb, his large hand tucked behind Kurt's ear.

"Let's take our time," he pleaded gently.

"You've been waiting years for me," Kurt said, his tone surprised.

"I can wait however long it takes," Dave replied, "I want to do this right with you. You mean so much to me, so much."

"But . . .," Kurt seemed confused.

"Did you think that all I wanted was to get with you this way," Dave asked, feeling a little hurt, "You have no idea how much I want to touch you and have you, but I don't want your body alone. I want all of you and I want you to have all of me. I don't know how to say it better than that, but this isn't about sex for me."

"Are you sure you're a guy," Kurt chuckled softly.

Dave smiled and kissed Kurt gently, pulling away before it could go deeper.

"I'm a guy, trust me," he whispered, "But I've waited for this chance for too long to fuck it up now."

Kurt stared at him and touched his face, his eyes searching and curious, as if he was seeing Dave for the first time.

"You really are so different," he murmured, "I never would have believed it, but you've made me a believer."

"I'll never hurt you again," Dave swore, looking at Kurt every bit as intently as he had the day he told Kurt that he would kill him, but meaning it so much more than he'd meant that threat.

"There's something I want you to do with me tomorrow," he propositioned Kurt.

"What," Kurt asked softly.

"I want you to come with me to my parents' house," Dave replied, setting his jaw, "I'm going to tell them."

Kurt's eyes went wide, "Are you sure?"

Dave nodded, "Now that you're mine, I've never been more sure of anything."


	7. Chapter 7

Dave kept rubbing his hands over his jeans, staring out of the car window to distract himself. Kurt had offered to drive when he noticed how nervous Dave had been all morning. Dave had to admit that he had been grateful for the offer, because all he could focus on right now was how scared he was that his parents would completely flip out on him. He liked to think that they were both sensible people who could accept him, but he'd hidden this from them for so long, he wasn't sure that they would be able to.

"You'll be fine," Kurt said gently, reaching over to rub his hand gently over Dave's leg.

The touch sent shots of electricity up and down Dave's leg and he placed his hand over Kurt's, enjoying the warmth and comfort that hand afforded him.

"Sorry," he grunted, feeling a little sheepish, "This is a really big deal for me."

"I know," Kurt replied, "But I'm here with you. You don't have to do this alone and no matter what they say, I'm going to be standing next to you."

Dave looked at Kurt, gratitude written on his face.

"I really don't deserve you," he said to the smaller young man.

Kurt smirked, as if he wanted to respond to that in a smart-alecky way, but instead he said nothing, which really piqued Dave's interest.

"What were you going to say," he asked.

Kurt shook his head, "Something that was only a valid in the past."

Dave gave him a confused his but didn't say anything to push him. What he did think was that Kurt no longer found viewing him the way he had for so long to be productive.

They pulled up slowly to the tall brick house in a nice suburban neighborhood and Dave stared up his house, attempting to swallow down the hard knot in his throat.

"The sooner we get in here and do this, the better," he reasoned aloud, popping the car door open and stepping out.

His feet immediately rooted in place, and he could feel himself start to shake. Nausea rushed up on him and he swayed on his feet.

Arms wrapped out him as his knees gave out and Dave looked over, dazed, at Kurt, who was giving him a reassuring look.

"I'm here with you," he whispered, "You don't have to be afraid."

Dave tilted his head down and caught Kurt's lips in a quick kiss and then sighed, taking the younger one's hand and squaring his shoulders.

"Ma," he called loudly into the house.

"David," a woman's voice answered, and Dave's father poked his head out from the living room.

The older man's eyes fell immediately on Kurt and then flicked to Dave.

"This is a surprise," the gruff, but professional man said slowly, "Is something wrong?"

"No, Dad," Dave managed to croak out, "There's just something I wanted to talk to you about with Ma."

The sable haired man nodded his head back towards the room he was in and called behind him.

"Sandra, your son has something he needs to tell us," Paul said, turning back into the living room, Dave and Kurt slow on his heels.

The two younger ones sat across from Paul, and the man stared at them both. Dave felt his shoulders start to crunch up around his ears, then felt a hand press against his knee.

"What is it, honey," Sandra came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron, and stopped short, "What's going on here?"

"Sit down, Ma," Dave said gently, "Please."

The small woman eyed them both as she moved to sit next to her husband, but Dave saw the way her eyes lingered on Kurt and his hand on her son's knee.

He took a deep breath and faced both of them, his expression determined.

"There's something I have to tell you," he whispered, "Something that I've been wanting to tell you for years."

His mother's lips pursed deeply and his father's jaw visibly tightened.

That couldn't drive Dave off course. He'd always suspected that his parents wouldn't be happy about this, but if they loved him, they would have to accept him. Undeterred, he continued.

"I'm . . . I'm gay," his voice came out gravelly but sure, "I'm gay."

For a long moment no one spoke. Both of his parents looked like they were struggling a little with the news, but neither one of them were exploding the way he had expected them to.

It was Kurt who finally spoke up.

"You both knew," he said softly, "Didn't you?"

Paul sighed and looked at the smaller boy next to Dave.

"Yes," he admitted, "I've suspected since his expulsion and both Dave's mother and I have been preparing ourselves for the possibility, but we decided not to say anything until Dave came to us himself.

The man looked at Dave and the man struggled to understand what he was hearing. His parents had suspected all this time and had never said anything. They had allowed him to keep his secret for fear of how he would be viewed by them. Dave had to wonder, however, about how he would have reacted if they had confronted him about earlier, when it was something he was still defensive and angry about. He might never have been able to come to terms with it in his own time.

"We're not happy about it," his mother finally said, "We tried to raise you right, in a good Christian home with good morals and values," she sighed and rubbed tired looking eyes, "But we prayed long and hard about it together and, though it's not the easiest thing to hear, we understand that you're going to live your life the way you feel led to live it and that you are still our son, no matter what."

Dave wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or mildly insulted by his mother's backward attempt to guilt trip him for something he couldn't help and tried for years to hide.

"I guess now you're going to tell us that you're dating him," his father gestured to Kurt, who sat up a little straighter.

"Yes, I am," Dave said, proudly, "I've had feelings for him since high school. There was more to what happened between us than you were told and I apologize for attempting to lie and cover it up."

His father grunted and nodded. Sandra was next him with eyes closed and her lips moving in a silent prayer. Dave couldn't help feeling a little bad for her. She was a long-suffering woman but she had the tendency towards being a little overdramatic.

"I'm still me, Ma," Dave insisted gently, "Nothing about me has changed; you just know more about me now."

The womb opened her eyes and nodded, though she appeared to be unconvinced over all. Kurt stood next to Dave, taking the bigger man's hand.

"We've intruded on your afternoon, and maybe we should give you guys time," he said softly, "Dave is staying with me until tomorrow."

Neither one of his parents said anything in argument, and Dave took it as the signal that it was okay for them to leave. He stood as well, told his parents that he loved them and quickly left.

Once in the car, Dave let out a long exhale.

"That could have been worse," Kurt said slowly and Dave nodded in response.

Kurt patted Dave's leg and smiled gently.

"They'll come around," he assured Dave, who nodded again.

Kurt frowned, "What's wrong?"

"I just wish that I had known that they knew, or at least suspected," Dave admitted.

Kurt shrugged, "At least they weren't in denial about it. They didn't pressure you to admit it to them before you were ready and they didn't yell and scream over it. I'd say that you should count this as a victory."

Dave nodded, contemplative. Kurt sighed and turned to him.

"Okay, you're scary when you get all quiet like that," he said softly, "Maybe we should go do something. Something to take your mind off of this for a while."

"Sure, okay," Dave said, but nothing more than that.

He was only vaguely aware of Kurt starting the car and driving away from his home. He knew he should feel happy, even elated that his sexuality was no longer a secret to his family, but he couldn't help wondering how things would have worked out if he had done this sooner. Would he have been happier, would Kurt have accepted him sooner?

When the car stopped, Dave looked up, his brow furrowing when he noticed that they parked in front of an arcade. He looked at Kurt with a questioning expression.

"Just because people think I'm a twink doesn't mean I don't like arcades," Kurt scoffed playfully, punching Dave lightly in the arm and pushing him towards his door, "Get out."

Dave did as he was told, undoing his seatbelt and hopping out of Kurt's car. Kurt came around and grabbed Dave's hand enthusiastically and dragged him into the building.

The two of them played until it started to grow dark outside, and Dave had to admit that it had helped to distract him from that afternoon's events. They returned to Kurt's house hungry and happy and Kurt had excitedly announced to his parents what had occurred that day. The two of them congratulated Dave, which surprised him, because he wasn't so sure it was something for which he should have been congratulated.

After dinner and a long chat in front of the TV with Kurt and his parents, the family finally moved to their respective rooms to retire.

Dave waited as Kurt curled himself around his body, his head once again settling in the crook of the bigger man's shoulder. Dave thoughtfully stroked his thumb over Kurt's cheekbone, staring into his eyes wordlessly for a long time before he finally plucked up the courage to break the moment.

"I want you to come to Chicago," he whispered, bringing his face as close as he could to the younger man's, his breath falling gently against Kurt's skin.

"When you graduate, I want you to come to Chicago for school," he clarified further.

He waited as silence spread over them again. He could feel Kurt's breath warm on his cheek and their foreheads touched.

"I know," Dave continued after the pause stretched too long, "It's not New York and it's not LA," he murmured, "But Chicago has great conservatories for the arts and a large base of work for people who are like you. I just . . . couldn't bear for you to be so far away and . . ."

A finger pressed against his lips and Dave fell silent as the finger was replaced with lips, slow and tenderly kissing away the words Dave had been prepared to speak. Dave let himself forget them momentarily to fold Kurt tightly into his arms and saturate their kiss with his need.

He could feel Kurt's hands moving over his shoulders, and then his chest and then tug gently at the hem of the T-shirt he was wearing, his fingers deftly slipping beneath the fabric and running slowly along the soft patch of hair that evenly covered his stomach. Dave pulled away to catch his breath, his will quickly coming undone beneath Kurt's ministration.

"I don't care what I said to my parents," Kurt whispered hot against Dave's mouth, "You don't have to wait for me. I've been ready for you."

Dave groaned. It was the one thing he'd wanted to hear more than anything and the one thing he didn't need to hear now. It was too soon and too fast and Dave wanted everything to be perfect, in the right time and place.

But hearing Kurt practically telling Dave to take him right then and there took all of the control away from him.

"David, please," Kurt whispered, "It's okay. Look at me."

Dave opened his eyes and looked at Kurt, who stared straight at him, his eyes probing.

"Every night after you left, I would close my eyes at night and see you," the younger boy said softly, "I would close my eyes and imagine you holding me, kissing me . . . touching me."

Dave shuddered and swallowed, unsure if he would be able to listen to this without exploding.

"It felt so wrong to think that way, but I couldn't help myself. Every night I'd . . ."

Even in the darkness, Dave could see Kurt's face go red and hot as he continued.

"I'd touch myself, whisper your name, imagine the things you would do to me with your hands, with your mouth," the younger one scooted closer and pressed his body against Dave's, causing the bigger man's breath to hitch, "I imagined you inside me. Please . . . I want you."

"I want you, too," Dave barely managed to get out, groaning when Kurt gently moved his hips against Dave's, "So bad . . . want to be with you forever, don't want to be far from you."

"Give me time to think about that," Kurt whispered, "Please, just be with me now."

Dave felt tears spring to his eyes. He desperately wanted to be with Kurt, but the way the younger man was talking, it was almost as if he didn't believe that they would last and figured they might as well get everything important out of the way, in case things didn't work out.

It was like a knife in his heart and Dave pulled away, shaking his head.

"You don't trust in this, do you," Dave mumbled, trying to hide the shaking in his voice, "Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

Kurt's hands were wrapped tightly in Dave's shirt and then his head moved forward to lean against Dave's chest.

"I'm afraid _I'm_ the one who's going to hurt _you_," he whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

Dave drove away from Kurt's house the next morning with mixed feelings. He knew that he was leaving things unresolved, but after Kurt's whispered confession, the two of them had fallen into an impenetrable silence that extended into the early hours of the morning, when the younger one's alarm went off.

Dave had watched Kurt get ready for school, painstakingly choosing his outfit for the day and preening over his hair. He had always figured that Kurt's morning ritual was tedious and overdone, but after an hour, he actually dropped back off to sleep. When Kurt kissed him softly and told him that he was heading out, another half and hour had passed.

Dave felt awkward getting his stuff together with Kurt already gone and the only family member left in the house being Kurt's step-mother, but there wasn't much choice since he hadn't gotten ready with Kurt as he probably should have. He slipped out with a quick thanks to Carole and drove off, aiming his car at Illinois with several backwards glances.

He had only been driving a few hours when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He pulled over to the shoulder of the highway and answered.

"Yeah," he said.

"It's me," Kurt's voice was soft, like he was talking when he shouldn't be. Dave looked at the clock on his dash and figured that it had to be about halfway through third period. "I'm in the bathroom," the younger one clarified further, "I miss you."

Dave felt his chest go tight, one hand gripping his steering wheel.

"I miss you, too," he admitted, his voice going soft as well, as if he were hiding with Kurt in that bathroom, whispering to him, "I love you."

There was a pause on the other end and a soft sigh. Dave's mouth curled into a deep frown. He knew he shouldn't have expected Kurt to say it in return, but it hurt that the younger one was still so reluctant to. He'd already told Dave that he had feelings for him, that he'd fallen for him, so why was it suddenly so difficult to say the single phrase that summed up all those words and feelings?

"I should get back to driving," he said gruffly, "I've already missed two days of classes and if my coach finds out, I'll get reamed."

"I'm sorry, David," Kurt whispered, "Please understand me, I . . ."

"I know, you don't want to hurt me," Dave snapped, "You know what really hurts me? That I finally did what you wanted me to do and now you've decided you're going to flake on me."

Dave pressed 'End Call' and turned off his phone, tossing it into his backseat and swerving angrily back onto the road. He wasn't going to waste his time with a wishy-washy pansy who couldn't decide one way or the other what he wanted their relationship to be. For someone who had been so supportive of him when he came out to suddenly turn the tables on him like this was lower than he'd ever imagined Kurt would go. Perhaps Dave being closeted was the only thing that had kept Kurt from having to fully accept the fact that Dave wasn't the same person and wasn't going to be treating the younger one the way he used to. The way Dave saw it, they were either dating and committed or they weren't, but he wasn't about to be half-ass about any of it.

It was late afternoon by the time he reached the small cluster of parking spaces that were nestled just behind his apartment building. He ascended the stairs slowly, feeling heavy inside. That heaviness was compounded when he noticed a small bag in front of his door, note attached.

_Hey, hot stuff. Here's some stuff you left at my apartment. I hope things worked out for you this weekend. Call me if you ever get over him. ~Chris 3_

Dave rubbed his eyes hard and unlocked his door, the dimly lit and musty smelling dwellings making him feel the weight of his situation. He'd run out on what was probably the first really good thing that had ever happened to him for someone who was afraid to put his money where his mouth was. It made his heart hurt, because he could still feel the solid warmth of Kurt in his arms, the burn of his kiss on his lips, the probing of his eyes. He felt saturated by the younger man he desired with his entire being and seemed cursed never to get.

He made himself a late lunch and early dinner, but didn't really have the appetite for it and ended up being late to his hockey practice later that night. The coach only eyed him suspiciously but didn't say anything. Dave ended up getting fifty extra laps as reprimand in lieu of a verbal lashing, and Dave had to admit, he was grateful to have avoided the dressing down.

He drove home exhausted, trudging up the stairs towards his apartment, only to find himself pinned against his door before he could get it opened.

"_Why_ have you been ignoring my phone calls," a frantic, high-pitched voice came from behind and Dave's eyes went big.

"Kurt? What the hell are you doing here," he asked, trying to turn around.

Kurt had decided to go all Karate Kid on him again, his fists pelting down blows against Dave's broad back as he turned to try and capture his hands.

"I turned off my phone, whoa, okay, Kurt, stop," Dave begged, curling a leg up to protect the most delicate parts of him when he finally managed to get Kurt's hands under control, "You gotta stop with all this hitting stuff when you're angry."

"You're one to talk," Kurt growled, his lips curling into a vaguely familiar snarl. Dave felt like he was experiencing déjà vu. "I can't believe you had the audacity to hang up on me without letting me explain, you no-brained lummox."

Dave's face crinkled at the insult and his jaw tightened, "Now, you wait just a minute . . ."

"You certainly didn't, so why should I," Kurt's chin lifted and his legs tried at kicking again, "You really don't understand how hard this is for me, do you?"

Dave pushed Kurt away from him in that instant.

"Yes, because you're _always_ the only one going through a hard time. You're _always_ the only victim. Poor Princess Kurt. Everyone protect his delicate little heart. God forbid anyone else is in pain and struggling and hurting and scared," Dave spewed, getting up in Kurt's face, "You are such a prima donna!"

Dave hardly knew what was happening until a split second later, but Kurt's hands were pressed against his face and he was kissing the bigger man as if his life depending on it. Dave could only stand there in shock when Kurt finally broke away and stared at him, his face longing and sad.

When the younger one came in for a second kiss, Dave didn't push him away, but he could distinctly remember this moment in reverse and when he had gone in that second time, it had ended up in a locker being permanently jammed and him storming away in frustration.

But pulling Kurt tight to him, Dave promised himself that, no matter what, Kurt wasn't going to be wiggling his way out of this.

He reached behind him to unlock the door and stepped backwards through the door, practically dragging Kurt, who was whimpering against his mouth by this time, into the apartment.

"Kurt," he whispered as he broke away from their kiss, "I love you."

"I love you," Kurt replied, his voice trembling but his tone sure, "I'm so sorry I didn't say it. I . . . I don't know what happened to me or why I was so afraid to say it, but I do. I love you, David."

Dave kissed him again, pressing him against the now closed door. Kurt's fingers had threaded their way into Dave's short, curly hair and one of the older man's large hands was pressed against the solid, cool surface behind Kurt. Dave let himself deeply explore the cavernous expanse of Kurt's warm, sweet mouth, moaning at the taste and feel of it. It was more addicting than anything else Dave had ever experienced, his ultimate drug.

Kurt gently pushed at Dave's chest.

"Take me . . ." he gasped, "Take me to your bed."

Dave's brain was addled enough by now that he didn't feel like arguing the merits of waiting. Kurt had come all the way from Lima to hunt him down and tell him that he loved him. For the moment, that was more than enough for Dave to be satisfied that the younger one hadn't simply been trying to yank his chain and get a good lay out of him before ditching him for someone else.

He gently scooped his hands beneath Kurt's thighs and pulled them around his waist, carrying him to the bedroom and gently kissing him as they went.

"I love you," Kurt whispered it again and again between their kisses, and each time it sent jolts through Dave like he couldn't even begin to describe.

When he finally pressed Kurt into the mattress of his bed, he was so turned on he was practically drilling the younger one to the bed through his clothes. Kurt could do nothing but moan and writhe beneath him, his fingers clutching desperately at Dave's shirt. The bigger man ripped it off, never minding if he tore the fabric.

"You tear any of my clothes off like that," Kurt choked, "I'll kill you."

Dave looked at Kurt and smirked and leaned in close.

"Do we need to see Sylvester," he murmured, licking his lips before silencing Kurt's response with a rough, wet kiss.

Still, he didn't want the boy to whine and fret about his precious clothes and turned down the volume a little bit to accommodate the slow disrobing process Kurt's delicate balance demanded.

First, the softest but flimsiest cream-colored sweater Dave had ever laid hands on, and then the crisp navy blue button up. Dave practically growled when Kurt's chest and stomach came into view. He greedily nosed the soft trail of hair that started just between small but well developed pectorals and ended beyond the waistband of Kurt's pants. It was nice that, despite how girly Kurt could come off, he was still all _man_. The soft musk to his skin was so distinctly male that Dave thought he could come right then.

He fumbled a little too eagerly with Kurt's belt and the smaller one squeaked in slight protest, though Dave thought that had more to do with his hands in sensitive places. He could practically feel the heat through the perfectly starched and iron denim that clung to every sumptuous curve of Kurt's legs.

"David," Kurt gasped as Dave tried, without success to tug the smaller boy's jeans from his hips.

"Why do you have to wear pants that look like you painted them on," Dave groaned, collapsing from the effort next to the boy.

Kurt groaned back and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and pushed every inch of fabric that clad his lower half away. Dave gaped at what sprang free. He felt a dull glow of pride that he could make Kurt react that way.

"Is that for me," he murmured, scooting down and kissing one of Kurt's hipbones. The smaller one jerked in response.

"No, it's for Queen Elizabeth," Kurt replied, his tone only a little sarcastic.

Dave grinned and gently slid his nose along the length of the organ. He'd only done this sex thing with one other guy, only a few days prior, but Chris had been in the driver's seat for the most part and all Dave had to really do was lie there.

Now he was the one in charge and he found himself at a slight loss of where to go from there. His eyes flicked up, his face flushing bright red when he saw Kurt staring down at him, his eyes obviously clouded and his mouth hanging open in soft pants.

He let his hand take up where his nose had left off and scooted back up.

"You're still half-dressed," Kurt managed to choke out even as his hips began to move into Dave's hand.

"I know," Dave murmured back, letting his lips trail over Kurt's neck, "I'll fix that soon."

Kurt shook his head, "I won't last long."

Dave looked at Kurt for a moment, not understanding, and then realization dawned on him.

"Is this your first time," he whispered, his hand pausing. Kurt whined loudly and slapped Dave on the arm.

"Don't stop," Kurt begged.

"Answer me," Dave replied.

Kurt looked him straight in the eyes and nodded without a word.

Dave was completely stunned. He hadn't expected Kurt to still be a virgin. He had dated Blaine for two years, so it made no sense to Dave that the two of them had never been physically intimate.

He kissed Kurt softly in response and pulled off his jeans and boxers before gently settling between the smaller one's legs.

"There's . . . stuff in the cabinet next to you," Dave said quietly.

The look he got from Kurt sent him scrambling for the cabinet to retrieve the things he needed himself.

As much as Dave wanted to take his time with this, he knew neither of them really had time to waste. The moment he drenched his fingers in lubricant and sank the first digit in barely past the first knuckle, Kurt's cock jumped and thin stripes of white streaked through the air and splattered against the younger boy's flat stomach. Dave watched the display slack jawed, Kurt's moans setting his teeth on edge.

"Fuck," he whispered, pushing himself up to bury his tongue in Kurt's mouth, his hips eagerly rubbing up against the smaller one thigh.

He grunted hard as the friction quickly finished him off as well and the two of them panted against each other.

"Well," Kurt managed after a long time of catching his breath, "At least you got me to your bed."

Dave gave him a lopsided grin. Kurt smiled back and curled his fingers through Dave's hair.

"I think the next time I come here you're going to have to show me some of those conservatories you were talking about."

Dave stared at Kurt, his heart beginning to thump wildly in his chest. Kurt was going to look at schools in Chicago. He was going to consider coming there instead of New York or Los Angeles.

And it had everything to do with him.

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I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review for me if you liked it, or if you hated it. Either one is fine!


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